


Magic

by kadeeleigh



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-08
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 10:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadeeleigh/pseuds/kadeeleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Department of Homeland Security needs to speak to Dr. Spencer Reid, and the BAU team wants to know why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Magic  
> Author: Kadeeleigh  
> Rating: Explicit  
> Pairing: Hotch/Reid Slash  
> Summary: The Department of Homeland Security needs to speak to Dr. Spencer Reid, and the team wants to find out why.  
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters residing in the world of Criminal Minds…I just like to take them out to play.

SSA Aaron Hotchner woke slowly from a dream. He smiled as he looked down and saw Dr. Spencer Reid lying next to him, his arm draped unceremoniously across the older man's waist. He was briefly contemplating exactly how he would extricate himself from the young man's grasp, when his phone began to ring. Glancing at the clock, he noticed that it was only five in the morning, and his team wasn’t even on call this week. Frowning slightly, Hotch rolled over and grabbed his cell phone off of the nightstand. Caller ID indicated that the person on the other end of the line was from his superior, Section Chief Erin Strauss.

Hotch pulled himself up into a slightly less prone position, and answered the phone. “Hotchner.” He said as quietly as possible, so as not to wake Reid if it wasn’t necessary.

Feeling the movement from the other side of the bed, Spencer tightened his grip on his partner’s waist, and snuggled closer, using Hotch’s chest as a spare pillow. 

Aaron listened carefully as Strauss explained the urgency of the team’s latest assignment. As she spoke, he absentmindedly ran his fingers through Reid’s sandy hair. 

Spencer felt Hotch's body grow tense as he responded. “It was my understanding that our team wasn't on call this week...Yes, Ma'am. Excuse me, Ma'am? Yes, yes of course...I understand, but no...we'll go as a team...thank you...I'll keep you apprised.”

The unit chief hung up without even the courtesy of a good bye. Spencer snuggled even closer, and began to trail light kisses across his boss’s stomach. Hotch smiled and quickly dialed Garcia. “Garcia…we have a case…can you…Thanks. Wheels up in two hours...Garcia…tell them we're headed to Montana.”

Reid raised his head to look at his boss. “Montana?”

“That's what she said...by request of Homeland Security.”

Reid looked at his lover quizzically. “Homeland Security requested our team specifically?”

Aaron smiled at his young lover. “They requested YOU specifically...I just let Strauss know that we weren't going to let you go without us.”

oOo

Hotch walked down the stairs of their new townhouse, straightening his tie. As he reached the second landing, he noticed his son sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, practicing palming a penny.

“Your magic skills are getting much better.”

Jack smiled proudly up at his father. “Spencer says that when my hands get bigger, I'll be even better, and Spencer knows everything.”

Coming around the corner, Spencer smiled at the young boy's proclamation. “One thing I do know is that someone isn't finished with his breakfast yet...Jack.”

Aaron laughed to himself as his son reluctantly stood, handing the penny to Spencer as he shuffled slowly back into the kitchen.

Spencer looked at the penny in his hand, tossed it into the air, where it vanished from sight. He smiled up at his supervisor. “Did you want me to drop Jack off at Jessica's?”

“Not necessary...She's gonna stop by to get his things in a few minutes...she volunteered to take him to school. We can ride in together.”

“Together?” asked Spencer skeptically.

Hotch's eyes had a glint of mischievousness. “Why not? There's no rule against carpools, is there? We are headed out of town...logic dictates that we should conserve our fossil fuel...we can even use the carpool parking!”

Reid rolled his eyes at the older agent. “Fossil fuel, huh?”

“I promise that I won't try and molest you in the parking garage...wait...is that what you are wearing?” asked Hotch.

Spencer looked down at his outfit. “What's wrong with this?” he asked with some concern.

Aaron allowed himself to assess his young genius from head to toe. He smiled as he took in the handsome young man, dressed casually in jeans, hiking boots and a tight, gray crew-necked thermal under a steel blue tweed sport coat. “I'm going to have to rescind that promise...there is no way that I will be able to refrain from molesting you in the parking garage.”

“Will security cameras deter you?” Spencer asked with a chuckle.

“No...no...I really don't think so.” Aaron walked the rest of the way down the stairs, and pulled his lover into his arms for a warm embrace. “Are all the clothes you're bringing like this?”

“We're headed to northern Montana in the dead of winter...the mean temperature in Great Falls, Montana in January is 9o Celsius, with nighttime lows averaging -17o Celsius. The coldest temperature on record for the entire contiguous U.S. occurred near Rogers Pass, Montana on January 20, 1954...that temperature was −57° Celsius. Rogers Pass is 115.71 kilometers southwest of Great Falls, making it even closer to the Canadian border than Rogers Pass...what did YOU pack?”

Hotch looked down at his suit, then back at Spencer, sheepishly. “I'll be right back.” 

oOo

 

Reid voice-over  
Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. - Arthur C. Clarke

 

“Sorry that we had to have the briefing on the plane, but the Helena Field Office contacted Homeland Security early this morning, and they felt that time was of the essence.” Hotch turned to Garcia and nodded. “Go ahead Garcia.”

“Yes, Sir. Okay, my young genius, here is your file...” declared Garcia as she handed Reid the paperwork. “Everyone else, please direct your attention to your tablets. Malmstrom Air Force Base is located just outside of Great Falls, Montana. Several weeks ago, incidents of vandalism began in the town of Great Falls. The incidents weren’t too terribly destructive...mostly a lot of broken windows...cars, houses and businesses…you name it, equal opportunity destruction. It played out as kid stuff. But, due to the town's proximity to the Base, the sheriff is obliged to share crime reports with the Commander at Malmstrom.”

The photos on their tablets chronicled each disturbance. Garcia continued. “Eventually, the sheriff realized that instead rocks or baseball bats, the glass was being broken as a result of explosions. Officials at the Base also became concerned that there was a pattern to the crimes. The vandalism was always at the same time...2:30am exactly. In the beginning, the bombs were apparently small, and, did minimal damage to property. Each successive explosion was bigger, and the damage more pronounced. In addition to that, each blast moved closer and closer to the Base. Last night’s incident took out the Base guard shack, and the adjacent motor pool garage. Two MPs were injured, and both of the airmen claim that their area was clear and quiet for several hours prior to the incident.” Garcia took a moment to pass around another handout. “This was found outside the fence line near the latest blast site.”

The picture showed a discarded piece of paper, with what appeared to be random symbols written on it in a bold, clumsy hand.

Morgan spoke first. “Could this be a cryptogram? Terrorist cells have been known to use a number of different codes to communicate without detection.”

“Guys...guys.” Reid couldn't keep the look of distress from his eyes. “Guys, this is bad.”

“Spencer?” asked Hotch with concern.

Reid began flipping quickly through the file. Pulling out a photograph, he eyed it carefully before waving it in front of Morgan. “Look at the photos from the most recent explosion. Can anyone see what's missing?”

The team flipped their tablets back to the crime scene pictures. “What are you seeing, Kid?” asked Rossi.

The young genius shook his head at the rest of the team. “It's what I'm not seeing...no scorching, no burnt debris...”

“He's right.” said Morgan in confusion. “With a blast this large, you would expect for the combustible materials to have caught fire...but there is no evidence of that.”

“And look at this.” added Prentiss. “The injuries sustained by the airmen are all concussive...no burns at all.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, and caught the Doctor's eye. “You know the answer, Reid. Care to catch the rest of us up?”

“The symbols on the note aren't cryptograms or any code. This is a mathematical equation for the Friedlander waveform. It describes the pressure of a given blast wave as a function of time. As opposed to conventional explosives, the goal isn't simply combustion. The goal of these types of explosions is to create amplified blast waves. The waves themselves cause damage by a combination of the severe condensing of the air in front of the wave and the subsequent wind that follows.”

JJ looked confused. “Like a concussion grenade?”

Spencer nodded. “But on a much larger scale...at least it looks like that's what they're attempting. Although...these calculations...the math is wrong.”

Spencer noted Aaron's concerned look. He wished he had more answers, but whatever it was, he couldn't quite get there. His frustration was evident to the entire team.

“Is it possible that the Unsub is trying to use this bomb as a dispersal device for a biological weapon?” postulated JJ.

Hotch nodded. “That is definitely one possibility...”

“Is Homeland Security assuming that the Base is the intended target...?” asked Rossi.

“...or do they suspect that this is just practice?” queried Prentiss.

Morgan scowled. “It doesn't make sense. Biological agents don't need that type of dispersal method. Like in Annapolis...the wind can do all the work for you, as long as you pick the right location.”

Rossi continued. “...and, if you do feel the need to use an explosive dispersal method, wouldn't it be much more effective at a higher altitude?”

“Garcia...” inquired Hotch, “...do we know how many military personnel are stationed at Malmstrom?”

“Sir, I anticipated that question, but so far I've got zip...zero...zilch. Information about this Base is locked up tighter than Al Capone's vault. I can tell you about the next air show, and the Base rowing team...they even have a museum...but I can't get access to any info relating to the Base personnel or why Homeland Security was called in.”

“Aaron...” began Rossi. “We are talking about a Military Base in the middle of nowhere...should we assume...”

Hotch finished the thought. “...that it houses nuclear missile silos? Probably. I doubt that we'll be getting a straight answer from anyone anytime soon, but I think we should proceed with that assumption. How would that change things?”

“Well, if we are assuming that the Base is the target, specifically the missile silos, then we should definitely consider terrorism.” stated JJ.

“If so, the question becomes...” added Morgan, “are they homegrown terrorists...religious zealots or right-winged anarchists?”

“and...” added Hotch, “why does Homeland Security want Reid here so badly?”

oOo

The FBI jet landed at the Malmstrom Air Force Base. The agents were met at the plane by the Base Command Chief, the Great Falls Sheriff, and two Homeland Security agents, who had arrived shortly before the BAU team.

The Command Chief, Master Sergeant Wells, introduced himself and Sheriff Grace to the BAU team. When it was Hotch’s turn to introduce his team, he noted that the two Homeland Security agents perked up significantly at the mention of Dr. Spencer Reid’s name. Since that moment, they had kept a suspicious eye on the team. 

The first order of business for the team was to visit the previous bomb sites, to ascertain if any additional information could be gleaned from the surrounding area. Hotch had the team split up. Sheriff Grace accompanied Garcia to the station to get their work area prepared. Rossi and JJ left to search the area around the first few incidents, while Morgan and Prentiss stayed at the Base to investigate the site of the latest explosion. With the others given their assignments, Hotch and Reid were left alone with the Base Command Chief and the agents from Homeland Security.

“Okay, which one of you is going to explain to us the reason for demanding Dr. Reid's presence here?” asked Hotch gruffly.

The two DHS agents looked at each other, then back to SSA Hotchner. Hotch stared back at them with a determined intensity, while Spencer chose to stare at his shoes and wait for the power struggle to be over.

Master Sergeant Wells glanced at the DHS agents, and chuckled. “Boys, they came all the way here...not telling them isn't going to solve anything. Please excuse me; I have other issues to attend to.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the four Federal Agents alone on the tarmac.

“Gentlemen?” asked Hotch. “...and by the way, we didn't catch your names.”

“Our apologies, SSA Hotchner.” said the taller of the two DHS Agents. “I am Agent Mitchell, and my partner here is Agent George. We didn't mean to offend...”

“...but being uncooperative isn't helping anything...please put a call in to Dr. Reid and get him here so that we can get to work.” finished Agent George gruffly.

Spencer looked up from his shoes, and noticed that Aaron suppressed a grin before addressing the other agents. “I can assure you, gentlemen, that this is indeed Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid. He possesses three doctorates, three bachelor's degrees, and is a nine year veteran of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Now...once again...why are we here?”

oOo

The BAU team had reassembled back at the Sheriff's office in Great Falls. None of the crime scenes yielded any additional information, and the team was frustrated.

“Why are we here again Hotch? There are no casualties, and the note that was left could just as easily point to college freshmen as terrorists...” stated Morgan.

Hotch cleared his throat before he addressed his team. “Some new information has come to our attention. In fact, this information is the reason that we're all here. Apparently, despite what we were originally told, whoever is responsible for these explosions has sent an message to the authorities.”

“A message? Why did they try to hide this from us?” asked Rossi.

“Because the communication was vague, and they wanted to check with the author of an attached article before they jumped to any conclusions.” answered Hotch carefully.

Prentiss queried. “An article? Do we suspect that the author might be the Unsub?”

“Is it a manifesto?” asked JJ.

Reid winced imperceptibly. “Definitely not a manifesto...simply a scholarly paper, positing the likelihood that a group of determined Luddites would be able to triumph over an advanced technological society…kind of an Astronauts vs. Cavemen scenario”

“So we're looking for the author? Do they think that the Unsub may be a protégé?” asked Prentiss.

Hotch glanced over at his lover and smiled. “Reid...Tell them about the author.”

“Hotch this is so not fair. I wrote that paper after watching a late night Angel marathon...I never thought that it would actually be published!”

“You watch Angel?” asked JJ in amazement.

Reid looked at JJ with indignation. “Of course I do...Joss Whedon is a genius!”

“Pretty Boy...never repeat that to anyone.” said Morgan with a chuckle.

Reid looked as if he was about to argue, but stopped when he felt his boss's hand rest gently on his arm. 

“Tell them the title of the paper, Spencer.” coaxed Hotch with a smile.

“'Luddites Will Win the Day'...” murmured Reid dejectedly. “I sent it to a completely obscure sociology journal...I didn't even think that they would publish it, until I received a copy of the magazine in the mail.”

“Luddites?” asked Morgan.

“Luddites, my lovelies, are evil, evil technophobes who would rather reject modern conveniences than move into the 21st Century like the rest of us.” said Garcia with derision.

“Actually, the term Luddite originated in England during the 19th Century, referring to bands of workers who organized to destroy manufacturing machinery, under the belief that its use diminished employment. Today, you would use that term to describe any opponent of innovation or technology...in other words, the Anti-Garcia.” stated the young genius succinctly. 

Hotch chuckled as he continued. “Apparently, the Unsub, or Unsubs, have been using Reid's opus as a blueprint for their insurrection. The big problem is...that Reid wrote it...”

“And...if Reid wrote it, it might just work.” finished Rossi. “Beautiful, kid.”

“This also means that the concern I had regarding the equation is valid...I believe the Unsub is testing an NNEMP.” said the young Doctor gravely.

“I was on the Bomb Squad for a few years, Pretty Boy...but I've never heard of an NNEMP.” stated Morgan skeptically.

As if on cue, the two DHS agents entered the room. “NNEMP stands for Non-Nuclear Electromagnetic Pulse. It is a weapon that emits an electromagnetic blast wave, generated without use of nuclear materials.” stated Agent Mitchell.

JJ gave the agents a look of confusion. “So the Unsub is trying to develop a weapon that will simulate a nuclear bomb?”

Reid shook his head. “They aren't trying to simulate anything. With the appropriate energy source, they can create a portable, non-lethal electromagnetic pulse that could destroy most, if not all, machines that use electricity. Generators would be useless, cars wouldn't run, and there would be no chance of making a phone call. In a matter of seconds, a big enough e-bomb could thrust an entire city back 200 years. It could shut down the Internet, electronic networks and communication systems that keep governments and the military running. We are utterly dependent on power, and when it's gone, things get very bad, very fast.”

“And your Dr. Reid...” stated Agent George, “is the new face of the revolution.”

“Which is why...” added Agent Mitchell, “we've decided to use Che Guevara here as bait.” as he nodded in Reid's direction.

“No way in hell is that gonna happen.” shouted Morgan, as he stood to face the DHS agents.

Prentiss moved towards Morgan, standing shoulder to shoulder, creating a human shield in front of the young genius. “You really need to rethink that plan...” growled Emily.

JJ swiftly joined them. “There is no way that we're letting you put Spencer in danger.”

“Guys...this was my decision...” started Reid.

“”...and I agreed.” finished Hotch. “It is the best and quickest way to catch our Unsub before he ends up doing real damage. Tomorrow, we're going to let it be known that Dr. Spencer Reid and his team from the FBI are in town investigating the recent rash of suspicious activity.”

“Sir...you are aware that you're talking about Reid, aren't you?” asked Garcia tentatively.

“What is that supposed to mean?” squeaked the young genius.

“Spence...you have to admit that you have a tendency to attract...trouble.” said JJ quietly.

“Ma'am...Agent Mitchell and I promise that this operation will go off without a hitch. Once the information is released, Dr. Reid will be under 24 hour surveillance. No one will be able to get near him without one of us knowing about it...you have my word.” said Agent George gravely. 

oOo

The BAU agents arrived at their hotel shortly after midnight. Reid and Hotch were rooming together, which they now did consistently...both on the road and at home. They had come to the realization early on in their romance that sleeping without each other was no longer an option for them. 

Hotch made his way into the room first, set down his bag, and threw himself onto the bed. Reid stumbled in a step behind, and immediately opened the room safe. He held out his hand towards Aaron, who carefully handed the agent both of his weapons. Reid removed his gun from its holster and added it to the others in the safe. “It's a five number code...Hitler's birthday.

“Would that be the European dating system, or American? And, for that matter...what year was Hitler born? And why are you projecting onto the safe?” Aaron frowned in Spencer's direction, as he pushed himself up off the bed.

“American dating system...1889...and I am not projecting.” said Reid curtly.

Aaron came up behind the young genius and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. Reid leaned back into his lover’s arms as Hotch rested his chin on Spencer’s shoulder. “Spencer…you can't hold yourself responsible for this.”

“In theory, what you're saying is logical. I realize that I, myself, have repeated that same mantra to any number of Unsub's families...yet I now find that it probably brought as little comfort to them as it has to me.”

“Spencer...” whispered Aaron seductively in the young doctor's ear. “Isn't there anything that I can do to help you take your mind off of this?”

Reid smiled, and turned around to face his lover. “I think that we could probably figure out a multitude of things that would take my mind off my new found infamy, if you...”

Aaron cut off Spencer's words by grabbing hold of Reid's jacket and pulling him tightly into a kiss. Reid placed one hand on the back of his lover's neck, using the other to pull Aaron's shirt free from his jeans. Hotch smiled, as the young doctor peppered kisses down his neck, while simultaneously snaking his hands under his boss's shirt to caress his chest and back.

Aaron moaned at the delicate touch of Spencer's fingers as they brushed gently over his nipples...teasing...always leaving him wanting more...needing more. With his hands still tangled in the lapels of Reid's jacket, he spun the genius around and pushed him back onto the bed. Spencer began to giggle as Aaron turned on the radio and began an exaggerated strip-tease, until he could wait no longer. He grabbed his supervisor by the hand, and pulled him to the bed...biting, licking and sucking every inch of exposed skin.

Aaron allowed himself to be manhandled by his lover. The forceful kisses and sensual biting, coupled with Spencer's dexterous hands all over his body, never failed to drive the older man crazy with lust. He loved giving into the carnality of Spencer's desires...it was as if each time they were together, was a new experience...a new exploration...a new first time. Loving Spencer was a never-ending exhilaration.

Between the two men, they managed to finally shed the remainder of their unwanted clothing, leaving them naked on the bed, Aaron on his back, and Spencer straddling his lover's thighs. Aaron stared up at the young genius with heavily lidded eyes, gasping with anticipation.

Spencer smiled at Aaron mischievously, and leaned forward, grinding their cocks together as he pulled his lover into a deep, breathless kiss. He trailed kisses down Aaron's throat, and back up to his ear. The young man was panting as he whispered huskily “Aaron...please...I want to fuck you...”

Aaron's breath hitched noticeably, and a shiver ran down his spine. Though he had never actually spoken the words aloud, giving up control to the young genius always resulted in the most mind-blowing orgasms he had ever experienced. Aaron smiled slowly. “If you think that will help, Babe, sure.”

Reid grinned at his lover's response, and quickly went to work making sure that this experience would be pleasurable for him.

Normally, Aaron loved to watch Spencer...sleeping Spencer...thinking Spencer...talking Spencer. He especially enjoyed watching his all consuming dedication to the sins of the flesh. Tonight however, was different. Lips and teeth and tongue...fingers and hands...limbs, and his soft, glorious hair, combined together in a whirlwind of sensations that threatened to overload his capacity for rational thought. Unable to keep his eyes open...unable to verbalize coherently, he let go of his body and brain, and took a trip down the rabbit hole.

By the time Spencer's slick fingers entered him, he was at the edge of no return...as Spencer grazed his prostate, he came, with a force that he had never before experienced. By the time that Spencer slid his throbbing cock deep inside him, Aaron was hard again, and once more at the precipice. Spencer...the genius...the savant...the magician...his lover, murmured Aaron's name breathlessly over and over as he came, buried deep inside his lover. Hearing his name, Aaron pulled Spencer into a violent kiss, punctuated by a second earth-shattering release.

“Love...you...this...you...love...” whispered Aaron over and over against his lover's ear.

As the drunken haze of orgasm cleared, Reid lifted himself slowly up onto one elbow, and grinned. “So...was that okay for you?”

Hotch willed his eyes to open, so that he could gaze at his lover. “If I could move right now, I would beat you senseless.”

Spencer laughed, and hopped from the bed. He retrieved a damp towel from the bathroom, and gently cleaned up the traces of their passion. After he finished, he slipped on a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, threw an identical set to Hotch, and climbed into bed. Aaron finished dressing, pulled the young genius into his arms, and promptly fell asleep.

oOo

SSA Aaron Hotchner heard a noise. He wouldn't have been concerned, but as he opened one eye, he saw a shadow cross between the bed and Spencer's nightlight. His body tensed, and he tightened his grip on the young doctor's waist. Spencer murmured as he awoke, causing Aaron to place his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. Reid's eyes popped open, and Hotch could see the fear. He tried to calm him with direct eye contact and steady breathing. As he felt his lover's body relax, he slipped the hand from his mouth, and nodded imperceptibly towards the bathroom.

Reid looked where Hotch had motioned, and saw that the bathroom door was closed, but glints of a flashlight could be seen shining underneath. Reid was closer to the closet, which held the safe. He slipped quietly from the bed, grabbed his glasses from the nightstand, and padded quickly towards the closet. The sliding door to the closet was shut...Spencer took a deep breath to control his trembling, as he gently slid the door open.

While Spencer worked to retrieve their weapons, Hotch positioned himself between the closet, where Reid was, and the intruder in the bathroom. Cell phone in hand, he quickly sent a 911 text burst to the team.

Reid exhaled slowly once he had his prize in sight, pausing to try and control the shaking of his hands. He took a look to his left, and noticed that Aaron had positioned himself directly between himself and the bathroom door. Satisfied that Aaron would give him ample warning of an approaching Unsub, the young genius placed his right hand on the safe keypad, and entered the combination by touch alone.

Hotch had his eye on the light emanating from under the bathroom door. He knew that the door opened in, so there was no way for him to block the intruder from exiting. His best chance was to take the Unsub by surprise when he finally opened the door. The senior agent saw the flashlight extinguish, and signaled Reid of the imminent attack. Hotch crouched down directly in front of the door. A low tackle, even on a larger opponent, was the quickest and most effective way to assure success in any hand to hand conflict.

Reid heard, rather than saw the bathroom door open. Grabbing a gun from the safe, he turned, unlocking the safety as he aimed. A dark figure emerged from the bathroom, inching slowly towards the bed. Hotch pushed forward with the balls of his feet, hitting the intruder right at the knees. The stranger yelled as he lost his balance, slamming against the wall. Hotch rolled out of Reid's line of fire, hoping that the nightlight would be enough illumination for the shot.

Reid could see that the intruder was armed. Even though he was off-balance from Hotch's body-check, he had held on to his weapon, and was raising the gun...pointing it directly at Reid.

Time began to move in slow motion. Spencer heard Aaron call out his name just as he pulled the trigger. Reid saw the intruder's body jerk from the force of the impact, milliseconds before he realized that he had been hit as well. As Spencer fell to the floor, he watched Aaron scramble to disarm the wounded suspect, before running to Spencer's side. In the same moment, Morgan and Prentiss burst through the door.

Morgan subdued the injured suspect, while Prentiss holstered her gun and knelt beside Reid and Hotch. The senior agent had pulled Spencer's upper body onto his lap, applying pressure to the wound in his thigh. Spencer's eyes looked a bit glassy, but he was still able to give Hotch a smile. 

“Please get that look off of your face...I'm fine.”

“Reid, you are not fine...you've been shot!” growled Prentiss.

Spencer kept his attention on his supervisor, resting a hand on Aaron's cheek. “It's only a flesh wound, Babe...trust me, I'm a doctor.”

Aaron smiled warmly, but his expression was full of concern. “Well Doctor...you're right, it is a flesh wound...but that flesh was surrounding your femoral artery. Now shut up and let us take care of you.”

Spencer surveyed his wounded leg. “From the location, it is highly unlikely that it came anywhere near the femoral artery. There is a much higher probability that the bullet grazed the great saphenous vein, which, interestingly enough, is the longest vein in the body. It begins on the medial side of the foot, and rises to extend up along the inner side of the leg...” 

“That's fascinating, Spencer...does the great saphenous vein bleed if it gets in the way of a bullet?” asked Hotch.

“Well, of course it would, but...” began Reid.

“Reid...he's trying to tell you to shut up and let him take care of you!” yelled an exasperated Prentiss as Hotch chuckled.

Spencer, up until this point, had been staring at Hotch. Hearing Prentiss yell, his head flopped to the left to grin at the agitated female. “I got shot again, Emily...but it doesn't hurt...Hotch said I'm fine.”

Hotch laughed. “You're the one that said you were fine, Spencer...not me. I think we should get a second opinion...does that sound okay to you?”

“Sure...” grumbled Reid. “...if you don't believe me...”

As Hotch applied pressure to Reid’s gunshot wound, Derek handcuffed the prisoner, called for medical help and secured the crime scene. After the details were taken care of, Morgan went to check on his injured friend. “How ya doin there, Pretty Boy?”

Reid smiled up at the larger man. “I got shot again…but Hotch says I’m fine!” he said with enthusiasm.

Morgan’s brow furrowed, and he turned his attention to his boss. “You told him he was fine?”

“HE said he was fine…I am going with shock and blood loss. Has the ambulance arrived yet?” asked Hotch with concern in his voice.

“They're right behind us.” stated agent Mitchell as he entered the room. “How did this guy know where you were staying, or even that you were in town?”

Morgan stood and glared at Agent Mitchell, clinching his fists. “You're asking us? I distinctly remember you two giving us assurances...”

“Well…” said Rossi, as he entered with the Sheriff, “…it appears that there is a mole, somewhere…either within the Sheriff’s Department, or Base personnel. I’m having Garcia run background checks, now. I asked her to pay special attention to familial relations…they may not even realize that they’ve passed along information.”

“How about the hotel staff?” asked Prentiss as she stood to make room for the paramedics. “I'd be willing to bet that when you search the suspect, you'll find a key to this room...he knew they were here, and which room they were in.”

The EMTs finished loading Reid onto the gurney. Hotch stood, and addressed Morgan and Rossi. “I'm going with Reid. I'm counting on you two to find out from the suspect who he's working with. Keep me advised on Garcia's search, and make sure you get our weapons from the safe.” He quickly grabbed his and Reid's go bags and headed to the waiting ambulance.

The DHS agents shared a confused glance as they surveyed the crime scene, noting the single king sized bed. Agent George turned to Rossi. “They were sharing this room?”

Rossi feigned ignorance. “All the federal budgets have been cut...we save where we can.” 

Prentiss stifled a grin, knowing full well what the agent was really asking. “Since our Unsubs are obviously aware that Dr. Reid is in town, will your 24/7 surveillance start now?”

oOo

Dr. Spencer Reid woke from his nap to find himself in the recovery room. Finding his glasses lying in his lap, Reid glanced towards the door, and saw two MPs pulling sentry duty outside. Looking to the left, Spencer smiled as he saw his rolling tray table piled high with jello cups.

“You're awake.” said Aaron happily as he saw Spencer stirring. “Sorry about all the jello, but I couldn't remember which flavor you liked after gun shot wounds.”

Reid laughed. “You really should have this memorized by now...cherry for anthrax, orange for hostage situations, and LIME for gun shot wounds.”

Hotch smiled and bent down to kiss his lover. Running his hand gently over his forehead to brush the hair from his eyes, his expression became serious. “Are you in pain, Babe? I can get the doctor if you need...”

Spencer grabbed ahold of Aaron's hand, and pulled it close, placing a gentle kiss to the palm. “Aaron...I'm fine...I told you I would be. Now, when can I get out of here?”

“The doctor said that he wants to keep you overnight, so I…”

Spencer interrupted forcefully. “I know what the doctor wants, but I also know that it is completely unnecessary. It’s a simple flesh wound…no surgery, just stitches. And, thanks to you, there wasn’t even enough blood loss to warrant a transfusion. Just get me lime jello, orange juice and some oatmeal raisin cookies and I’ll be ready to go!”

Hotch frowned. “You didn’t give blood Reid…you were shot.”

“Barely. But, hey...somebody shot me...don't you want to go interrogate them?” asked Spencer with a look of wide-eyed innocence. “That bullet got real close to my good stuff too...you should give him a piece of your mind!”

“Morgan was mad enough for both of us...I think that he'll take care of it for you.” said Hotch with a chuckle.

“Oh...so your comfortable with Morgan defending my honor...and my other parts?” asked Reid indignantly.

Hotch growled in frustration. “Spencer...I am not leaving you here alone.”

“Then...TAKE ME WITH YOU! Jeezz, Aaron...are you being purposefully dense?”

Both men started to laugh, as Reid struggled to sit up. “You are one stubborn genius, aren't you?” grumbled Aaron as he helped his lover sit up.

Hotch set Reid's go-bag on the bed, and the two started fumbling through it, looking for an appropriate change of clothes. Reid found a clean pair of boxers, and two mismatched socks. Aaron found Spencer's favorite khakis, and his lavender chucks. Spencer started getting dressed, while Aaron hunted down a T-shirt and pull-over. The two men were arguing playfully over which one of Reid's sweaters matched his shoes best, when they heard someone open the door and clear their throat. Aaron and Spencer, still in a tug-of-war with a sweater, looked up to find the two DHS agents standing awkwardly at the entrance of the room. 

SSA Hotchner straightened his posture, put on his most ominous death glare, and turned to face the agents. “Gentlemen...have you found out any additional information about our suspect?”

Agent Mitchell began. “Well...according to your Tech Analyst...Penelope is it? Well she did some digging and found out that your late night visitor...one Jeb Callas...is related to not one, not two, but three employees of your hotel. In addition to that, he has a cousin in the sheriff's department and a brother-in-law stationed at Malstrom. His baby sister Kayla met her future flyboy husband at the local watering hole, owned by Jeb's uncle and nephew...do you want more? I can go on...”

“Apparently, the Callas family is fairly well entrenched in Great Falls.” finished Agent George in frustration.

Reid finished dressing, and sat back down on the bed, thinking. “Hotch...ask Garcia to run a search on anyone in Great Falls that may have purchased low-inductance capacitor banks, flux compression generators, vacuum tubes, microwave generators...anything that could be used to piece together an NNEMP. Based on the blasts, they started small...but with the most recent explosion at the base, they would have needed a larger generator. Fortunately for us, the Unsubs haven't figured out the waveform calculation, and don't have an idea the amount of amplification necessary...”

“Spencer...Spencer...relax. I'll get her working on it. Let me help you with your shoes, then we can get to the Sheriff's Office and see what Morgan has found out from Callas.” Hotch tied the Chucks as he talked. When he was done, he helped the young genius up again, and straightened his sweater. The young man smiled, and put on his sports coat and scarf while Hotch went to find a set of crutches.

“Dr. Reid...Do you have any idea what this guy wants from you?” asked Agent Mitchell carefully.

Reid thought for a moment. “Well, since we know that he read my paper, I assume that he may believe that I hold a similar mindset...or, seeing as how I hold Doctorates in Chemistry, Mathematics and Engineering, its possible he thinks that I could not only solve his waveform calculation, but also provide him with a better design.”

“But...” added Hotch as he returned with the crutches, “...I'm going to bet that Callas thought that I was the good doctor...otherwise, I doubt he would have shot at Reid.”

Spencer stood next to the bed, using his good leg for balance as he gratefully took the crutches from his supervisor. “The only way we're going to know that for sure is to talk to him...let's go.” said Reid as he exited the room smoothly.

SSA Hotchner turned to follow, when he was stopped by Agent George. “He's pretty good on those crutches.”

“He should be...he spent almost a year on them the last time he was shot...shattered his knee.” said Hotch frankly.

oOo

The four Federal Agents arrived at the Sheriff's Office within 15 minutes. In order not to advertise their presence, Mitchell parked the SUV around the back, and they entered through the rear door, usually reserved for prisoners. Sheriff Grace met the men at the door, and directed them to the observation area, overlooking the interrogation room.

Sheriff Grace took the opportunity to catch them up on the situation. “After Jeb had his hand patched up...and nice shootin' there Doc...we brought him back here. Your Agent Morgan, there, has been in with him ever since. For the first couple a' hours, he didn't say nothin' but his name and social security number. Morgan asked if he wanted a lawyer, but he just kept repeatin' his name and social, over and over, like he was a prisoner of war or sumpthin. Around 7:00, he started feelin' a bit peckish, and realized he'd missed his breakfast.”

Prentiss took the opportunity to continue. “Once he figured out that he'd missed breakfast, he decided to start talking, so he wouldn't be late for work! This guy is definitely not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he still hasn't told us who he's working with. Interestingly enough, he thinks that he wouldn't be under arrest if it weren't for Reid.”

“Well, not quite.” added Rossi. “You were right, Aaron...he assumed that you were his target. Reid, on the other hand...” The elder agent seemed to struggle for the right words.

Garcia was the one that chose to break the awkward silence. “He keeps referring to you as the twink.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow in confusion and looked to Reid for an explanation. Spencer smiled shyly, and addressed Garcia. “I'm assuming that he wasn't referring to World of Warcraft?”

The technical analyst giggled, while shaking her head. “Sorry my baby boy...”

Reid surveyed the room. From the looks on his team member's faces, the only people in the dark about the insinuation were Hotch and the two DHS agents. The rest of the group were working extremely hard to keep from breaking into giggling fits. 

Looking from Rossi, to JJ, to Prentiss, and finally to Garcia, Reid shook his head in exasperation. “I was shot...and your still gonna make me explain this, aren't you?”

The four agents all began nodding their heads...composure blown, they could no longer control their laughter. “Go ahead sweet thing...” sputtered Prentiss. “...tell them what it means.”

Hotch became frustrated at his lack of understanding. “I don't care who tells me, but someone better do it soon.”

Reid turned to his supervisor with a look of embarrassed resignation. “Wikipedia defines Twink as a slang term describing a very attractive young gay man with a slender, ectomorph build, little or no body hair, and no facial hair. Not unlike their namesake, the Hostess Twinkie, they are commonly regarded as having little nutritional value, sweet to the taste and creme-filled...memorable for his outer packaging, not his inner depth.” Spencer winced as he continued. “The female equivalent would be...a dumb blonde, or a bimbo.”

Hotch and the two DHS Agents tried very hard to contain themselves. Aaron, suppressing a grin, put a comforting arm around his young agent. “Reid...he has absolutely no idea what he's talking about...you have an inner depth.”

Spencer looked at his lover incredulously. “Seriously? That's your response? That I have depth?” 

The laughter from the observation area was so loud that Morgan was temporarily distracted from his interrogation. He glanced back at Jeb Callas, and continued to listen to the man drone on about the pending apocalypse, and America's fall from grace. Bored, from listening to the suspect's simplified understanding of generic anarchistic propaganda, Derek decided to join the others in the observation room. “Mr. Callas...let's take a break, okay? Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

“No, Mama won't let me drink coffee, but thanks all the same. Will I be able to go soon? I still need to get Dr. Reid to the compound before work.” said the suspect with an air of innocence and complete ignorance of his current situation.

Morgan noted that as the suspect made his pronouncement, all sound from the observation ceased. Derek chuckled internally. “Well, Mr. Callas, just let me talk to the Sheriff and see if he has any more questions for you. If not, you should be on your way!”

Jeb smiled contently as the muscular agent left the room shaking his head. He headed for the observation area with an idea.

oOo

The group was just finishing up outfitting their supervisor with every tracking device known to man. If redundancy was a measure of success, then the team had already won. After profiling Jeb Callas, Morgan was certain that he would not even think of checking for a weapon, but they couldn't begin to believe that the others at the compound wouldn't. The DHS agents fitted SSA Hotchner with a hidden weapon, and tracking devices were concealed in a shoe, the waistband of his pants, and in lieu of one of the buttons on his shirt.

Reid took care to make sure that his boss's ear piece was well hidden, and checked their equipment carefully, until Spencer was confident that they would be able to communicate effectively.

“Okay, Aaron...JJ is in with Jeb right now, explaining to him that I've chosen not to press charges, and that he is free to go.” said Reid calmly. “As of this moment, you are Dr. Spencer Reid, genius and sex god.”

Aaron grinned broadly. “I will keep that in mind.”

“I hope so...don't go ruining my reputation...there are standards that must be maintained.”

Suddenly, Hotch had an epiphany. “You're going to be the one in my ear, aren't you?”

“Of course.” said Spencer with an evil grin. “If they think you're me, then they might ask you technical questions...it would be remiss if I wasn't there to back you up.”

“You're planning on getting your revenge, aren't you?” asked Hotch with suspicion. “...for the twink thing!”

Spencer turned to his lover...eyes wide and innocent...head tilted, a single lock of hair in his face. “Aaron...what are you talking about? I would never do anything like that. You are going into an obviously dangerous situation...I am shocked and hurt that you think I would do anything to jeopardize your safety, or the capture of the Unsub.”

Hotch glanced at the young doctor warily. “Babe, it's hard to trust you when you're using the doe-eyes on me.”

Curious, Emily peered around the corner, where the two men were prepping. “Sir...Reid always looks like that.” said Prentiss with some confusion.

“I realize that, Emily.” Hotch said with a smile, as he looked at Spencer. “...manipulative little bastard. He's got Jack doing it now, too...I've lost total control in my own home.”

Spencer grinned. “Aaron…that is harsh. I simply use the tools at my disposal to maximize the potential for success in any given situation.”

“Yea...just remember that I'm your supervisor, and that I have the power to fire you.” threatened Hotch.

Prentiss couldn’t help but smile when Reid leaned over and gave the senior agent a peck on the cheek. “If you two are finished, I think Jeb is in a hurry…his shift at the plant starts at noon.”

“You'd better get going Dr. Reid...” said Spencer with a giggle, “...or Jeb's gonna be late for work!”

The three agents made their way back into the observation area. Garcia double checked the GPS locators, and the transmitters one more time, just as JJ emerged from the interrogation room.

“I convinced Mr. Callas that it would be a good idea if he embellished this morning events when he speaks with his partners. He's going to tell them that when he got to your room, that you had company, so he had to wait until you were alone to approach you.”

Rossi interrupted. “How is he explaining the injury to his hand?”

JJ smiled. “Obviously, Dr. Reid, being the highly trained FBI agent that he is, didn't appreciate being approached by a stranger in the hotel elevator.”

Hotch nodded. “That's as good of a story as any...”

“JJ, was he supposed to invite me to the compound, or kidnap me?” asked Spencer with concern. “He came armed...what are his partners expecting?”

“Well, he was definitely not supposed to take no for an answer, and considering his injury, I think it would be a hard sell to say that you came willingly.”

Reid smiled broadly. “Aaron, quick...give me your cuffs. They may know that Dr. Reid is a genius, but I bet they don't realize he's also a magician!”

Hotch gave his team a confused look. “We ARE all aware that I'm not actually Spencer, right?”

While Morgan put the handcuffs on his supervisor, Reid was busy fiddling with the right cuff of Hotch's dress shirt. “Hotch...listen to me, okay? These are your own handcuffs...you know how they feel, and you know how they work. You've seen me break out of these countless times...” Rossi snorted with laughter at Spencer's statement.

Aaron shot a dirty look Rossi's way. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Dave.”

“As I was saying before the dirty old man interrupted...you've seen Jack break out of these countless times. Remember it...visualize it.” Reid put his hand over Aaron's, and delicately pushed a bent paperclip into a hole in his cuff. “The hardest part will be getting this out without him noticing. Remember Aaron, magic is simply the art of misdirection. Your hands will be behind your back, so you'll have to do it by touch...and Aaron...” Spencer said firmly. “if you can't do this, I'm going in your place.”

This appeared to be all the motivation that Hotch needed. Within moments, he had the paperclip magically in hand, and the cuffs released...all while never taking his eyes off his young lover. As he handed the cuffs to Morgan, he put a hand up to Spencer's face, leaned in, and whispered to him quietly. “As long as I am alive, you will never be put in that situation again.”

Both men smiled, and touched foreheads silently. “You...safe as houses, okay?” asked Reid softly, waiting for a comforting nod from his lover, before moving to take his seat next to Garcia.

JJ escorted Hotch in to meet Jeb. Their prisoner grinned happily when he saw Doctor Reid, and extended his hand in greeting. “Very, very pleased ta meet ya, Doctor. Ricky's gonna be happier than a pig in shit.” He tensed suddenly, and gave JJ a guilty smile. “Sorry for the language ma'am...that was impolite a' me.”

“Understandable Jeb...” said JJ politely. “Well, you both should probably be on your way...you wouldn't want to be late for work, right Jeb?”

“Yes, ma'am. Thank you ma'am.” mumbled Jeb as he moved to grab Hotch's elbow. “I'm sorry about this Doctor, but Ricky told me that I'd need to secure ya...for travel...he didn't want ya to fall outta the truck...that door don't really latch proper.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow in JJ's direction, and both agents suppressed a grin.

As the pair left the building, Reid turned to Garcia. “Let's find out who Ricky is.”

oOo

Four separate, unmarked vehicles, stood ready to follow Jeb Callas and his unwilling guest, as soon as he pulled away from the Sheriff's station. The first car, driven by Morgan, carried JJ and the two DHS agents. The second car, driven by Sheriff Grace, carried Prentiss and Rossi. Trailing slightly behind, were two SUVs with a compliment of SWAT officers and bomb disposal experts on loan from Helena.

Jeb's truck's left the sheriff's department parking lot at a steady 40 miles per hour. Garcia and Reid watched as he headed east on Country Club Blvd., making a left turn onto 15th Street. A quick look at the satellite tracker, showed that Jeb and Hotch were headed for Bootlegger Trail.

Reid kept his eyes fixed on the GPS display. He knew that he was being foolish, but he feared that if he looked away for even a moment, that the blinking light from the transmitter on Jeb's truck might suddenly disappear, losing Aaron forever. He sat, with elbows resting on the desk in front of his computer screen, fingertips pressed lightly against the receiver in his ear, listening intently while Aaron made small talk with the intellectually challenged kidnapper.

Garcia noticed the intensity in the young genius, and knew better than to try and distract him. He was worried, and when he worried he fidgeted...pencil tapping and knee bouncing were normal whenever he was anxious. She noted that with his current stress level, a slow rocking motion had been added to his usual coping mechanisms. She also noticed that his lips were constantly moving. At first she thought it was just another nervous tick, until she finally heard the mantra he was whispering over and over again. 'I'm here Aaron...I love you so much...I'm here.'

oOo

Morgan followed the dilapidated Chevy truck at a safe distance, utilizing the tracking devices as a guide. JJ was serving as navigator, continually updating Morgan on the suspect's course. While the truck driven by Jeb headed up Bootlegger Trail, Agent Mitchell spoke from the back seat. “So, your boss and the doctor are gay, huh?”

The two BAU agents glanced at each other in shock. “What?...No!” they said in unison. JJ continued. “Why would you say something like that?”

Agent George looked at his partner in confusion. “I'm sorry, but when we got the crime scene, it appeared as if they were sleeping in the same bed at the time of the break-in...we had to assume...”

“Well...” interrupted JJ abruptly, “you don't have to assume anything...what their sleeping arrangements were is totally irrelevant to this case.”

Mitchell continued. “Agent Jareau, we mean no disrespect, but we need to put this whole thing into context...”

“...and that bite mark on your boss's neck seemed to suggest...” added George.

“Oh, yea...Reid is definitely a biter...” said an amused Morgan as he looked towards JJ.

“I've noticed that.” agreed JJ, with a mischievous grin. “Hotch doesn't seem to mind, though.”

Morgan nodded in mock agreement. “You want to weigh in here, Pretty Boy?”

The radio crackled as the young genius opened his microphone. “All of you can bite me! And...since neither my sleeping arrangements or my sex life is a matter of national security, can we focus on getting Hotch back in one piece, please!”

Morgan glanced over his shoulder to the two men in the back seat. “Sounds like you might have made him mad.” Morgan and JJ laughed aloud, as the two DHS agents sank back in their seats. “Next time, try to remember the open comm line before you start talking.”

The radio crackled again, and Garcia's voice came through loud and clear. “Derek Morgan! Don't you dare tease my baby!”

“Baby girl...it was all in good fun...Reid knows that. Now, sweet thing do you have something for us?”

Garcia grumbled under her breath before continuing. “I researched the shopping list that Reid gave us, and even though he tried to cover his tracks by making each purchase with a different credit card, all the items were delivered to the same address. The sheriff's station.”

“Garcia...who are we looking for?”

Garcia answered cautiously. “All the credit cards were in the name of Franklin Richard Lee, who has been a deputy in Great Falls since...”

“...2002, after he quit the Bureau when he was passed over for a position with the BAU.” finished Reid.

“Very good young Jedi...the Force is strong in you.” teased Garcia. “In addition, it appears that he has been on a leave of absence from the Sheriff's Department since the day after the last package arrived, and one week before the first bomb went off.”

“Son of a bitch...” responded Reid with fear in his voice. “This is bad. He was bumped from contention for a spot with the BAU when Gideon brought me in...he's out for revenge. Morgan, catch up with them quick...I'll contact Hotch.”

oOo

Jeb had driven the pickup off-road about ten minutes ago, and Aaron's already sore muscles were protesting violently. His kidnapper droned on as he drove, continually proselytizing about the coming Luddite revolution. He reminded Hotch of the traveling preachers of his childhood, common in the South for their fire and brimstone sermons. The tendency to vilify anything that they could not explain or accept, such as technology was a common theme, and was invariably sent by Satan to tempt the wicked sinners.

Due to the lack of sleep, and the inane conversation, Aaron had actually started to nod off, when he heard his lover whisper in his ear.

“Aaron, can you hear me?” Reid asked as calmly and quietly as he dared. Knowing that it was unlikely that Hotch would be able to respond, Reid continued. “I need you to get yourself out of the handcuffs...now. The man that Jeb is taking you to see, knows both of us, and is going to be very irate that its you with Jeb, and not me.”

As he spoke with Hotch, Reid gestured to Garcia to contact the others, before he continued. “This whole thing has absolutely nothing to do with anarchists or any Luddite revolution...”

Garcia opened all the comm lines, so all four pursuit vehicles could hear the young genius. “Aaron...the Unsub is Franklin “Ricky” Lee. Do you remember him? He applied for a position with the BAU back in 2002. You passed on him after Gideon introduced you to me. If you recall, he didn't take it very well.”

“Oh, man...I remember that son of a bitch! He punched Gideon when he found out that he didn't make the cut.” interjected Morgan.

Sheriff Grace keyed his mic quickly. “Deputy Lee is an arrogant asshole, with an arsenal of weapons he's been collecting for years. We can't take the chance that he hasn't acquired some...shall we say...less than legal armaments. SWAT leader...take point.”

oOo

Hotch was secretly proud that he had actually been able to unlock his cuffs without Jeb noticing. Now, he listened carefully as Reid relayed the team's plan, and began to prepare himself for the upcoming assault. It was his job to take out Jeb before they reached their destination, and after Jeb's non-stop verbal diarrhea, he was truly looking forward to it.

Instructions were passed from SWAT, to the pursuit vehicles, to Garcia...to Reid and finally to Hotch. The elaborate game of telephone could have proved to be a hindrance to the operation, but the young genius kept everyone on task, and his supervisor fully informed. Sheriff Grace estimated that the vehicle carrying Jeb and Hotch was about 5 minutes away from Lee's hunting cabin, so they had to make their move swiftly.

“Okay, Hotch...” said Reid carefully. “The SWAT team is right on top of you, and Morgan isn't far behind. You need to take control now, before he gets to the cabin...and, Babe...try to make sure you don't crash.”

Aaron smiled at his lover's off-handed concern, before quickly turning his attention to the man in the driver's seat. He imagined that he could hear Spencer's voice clearly, as if he was sitting right next to him...'Remember Aaron, magic is simply the art of misdirection'. Hotch began to cough, and doubled over in his seat, careful to keep his hands behind him. As Jeb watched, Hotch began to gasp in between coughing fits, feigning the inability to breathe. Jeb's expression turned from concern to horror when his passenger collapsed against the truck door, and appeared to stop breathing. He quickly stopped the truck, jumped from the cab and ran to open the passenger side door.

Hotch was ready for him, and as soon as the door creaked open, the senior FBI agent used his legs to kick firmly against the now open door. The move knocked Jeb to the ground, and as he began to regain his senses, Aaron jumped from the truck and elbowed Jeb expertly in the face. Once his captor was again horizontal, Hotch pulled the weapon from his ankle holster, drove his knee into Jeb's chest, and held the barrel of his gun firmly to his forehead. “Don't move an inch, or I WILL shoot you.”

Reid listened from the comfort of the Sheriff's Station, with an extremely large grin on his face. He rubbed both hands roughly over his face, and finally allowed his entire frame to relax. “Base to team...” Reid began. “First subject in custody 2.4 kilometers north west of Bootlegger Trail just past mile marker 18. Send backup to that location as soon as possible.”

oOo

Spencer waited patiently outside the Sheriff's Department for the team to arrive. He kept the crutches under his arms, but leaned against the brick building, with his uninjured leg supporting his weight. He began to smile when two of the four SUV's came around the corner and pulled into the lot. Agents Mitchell and George had stayed behind with the SWAT team to process the hunting cabin, while the two suspects were transported by the BAU, with the assistance of Sheriff Grace.

Reid stood to greet them. He smiled as Hotch pulled Jeb roughly from the backseat, before handing him off to one of the deputies for processing. Aaron spotted the young agent, and walked slowly to meet him. “You shouldn't be on your feet, you know...you were shot.”

“I was just waiting for you outside...it was getting stuffy in there...you know how I hate that.” replied Spencer playfully.

Hotch put one hand on the doctor's waist, the other on his cheek. Taking care not to pull Spencer off balance, he leaned in and kissed his lover tenderly. The young man responded to the kiss out of habit, before pulling back and looking around quickly. Had Hotch not had a hold of him, he would have tumbled backwards onto the dirt. “Hotch...are you out of your mind?”

“That, Doctor, is between me and my mind.” laughed Hotch as he took in the look of shock in his lover's eyes.

“Aaron...you just quoted Firefly...that...that is so, so sexy.”

Hotch chuckled at the look of desire in Spencer's eyes. “I'll take a rain check on that until you feel better, okay? Right now, I think we should get inside and watch Morgan and Prentiss do some interrogating.”

Hotch voice-over  
Genius is another word for magic, and the whole point of magic is that it is inexplicable. - Margo Fonteyn

 

Reviews appreciated!!


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